Bleak House, and The Birthday - Linda Newbery
I had another piece lined up for today, but then realised that my posting slot coincides with Charles Dickens' two-hundredth birthday (well, it would be hard to miss that - Dickens is everywhere). He hardly needs another mention, but here it is anyway.I'm reading Bleak House, enjoying the revelations as the plot unfolds, the slow grinding of the law court in the background, and of course the cast of characters - effete Mr Turveydrop, the neglected but spirited Caddy Jellyby, the birdlike and ever-hopeful Miss Flite, useless Mr Skimpole, Lady Dedlock doomed by her guilty secret. Esther Summerson's first-person narrative alternates with the chapters relayed more conventionally by an omniscient narrator, giving variety and freshness to a complex plot. (Is Esther Summerson the only female character in Dickens to be given her own voice?) Throughout, there are universal themes of finding the balance between happiness and duty, and of individuals striving to find goodness, purpose and love in a society indifferent to suffering.
As I read, I can't help seeing and hearing the superb cast of the excellent BBC adaptation of 2005 - Anna Maxwell Martin such a sympathetic Esther, Carey Mulligan - at the start of her career - bringing charm and personality to the anodyne role of Ada, Charles Dance unforgettable as the steely lawyer Tulkinghorn, and Burn Gorman ridiculous and oleaginous as the ambitious clerk, Guppy. But where to stop? Denis Lawson was perfect as John Jardyce, especially in the poignant scene where he frees Esther from her engagement; Gillian Anderson icy but vulnerable as Lady Dedlock.
I could watch it all over again, and again, with enormous enjoyment: the title sequence alone makes it worth buying the DVD. Although Andrew Davies pruned characters and episodes, his version aired in fifteen half-hour episodes, as well as omnibus repeats - such a treat for winter Sundays. His Bleak House was allowed the time and space for the characters to develop and resonate in viewers' minds. To my mind, it was the best and most satisfying Dickens adaption I've ever seen - so different from the recent Great Expectations, where we hurtled through the plot on fast-forward, hardly allowing us time to care what happened.
Please, let's have more slower-paced drama! Too much compression reduces great stories to nothing but plot. Accelerated Dickens, like breakneck Jane Austen or Charlotte Bronte on speed, is about as satisying as reading Coles' Notes.
How about you? What's your favourite Dickens novel, and your favourite adaptation?
Comments
I now have to read the book...
His top ten include, Wilkie Collins, Robert Louis Stevenson, the Brontes, etc - nothing eccentric, but if ponderousness is not your thing, it's hard to understand the inclusion of several of these Names at Dicken's expense.
If I were to find fault with CD's novels, it would be over the inconsistency of the writing in terms of it's ability to hold the reader's attention. There are dull, overwritten passages in most of the big novels. He had no editor! He would run things by his closest mate(s), who did occasionally make suggestions, but that's not the same as an Editor's view. THis raises an interesting historical point: when did it become common place for an author of fiction to work with an editor?
Trevor
TJA, I think the triteness of characterisation is a just criticism. Skimpole is always Skimpole. Ada is always Ada. Mrs Jellyby is always Mrs Jellyby. You don't expect to be surprised by them, as you might be by more rounded characters.
Yes - that line will stay in the memory a long long time!
But for me, Great Expectations has to be the one. Perfectly constructed, hardly a word wasted even when CD is being florid, emotionally exact and as a story absolutely compelling. The recent BBC adaptation was such a travesty as to make me really very angry.
Actually, I love taking books apart to see how they work. It seems to me that it's exactly what we, as writers, should be doing.
TJA, those are good points. The same things about editing could be
said of most Victorian novelists who wrote for serialisation - though there was certainly some censorship, which mean Hardy had to make Angel Clare wheel Tess, Izz Huett and the rest across the stream in a conveniently-placed wheelbarrow. But what writers there were - and of your list, I think that for me, Wilkie Collins wins the prize.
I'd fogotten that about Angel Clare and the wheelbarrow! Hardy wins the Victorian novelist prize, for me. But I like Dickens for different reasons, one of which is the humour which is in abundance even in BLEAK HOUSE.
Yes - GE without What Larks is like The Importance of Being Earnest without the Handbag!